After searching through her purse for a while, the woman who asked me if I was OK comes up empty handed. After trying to console her worries I find her gaze lingering outside the restaurant. With the moment of serendipity gone I slowly turn around and see about 12 rebels marching towards me. Most of the customers run to the bathrooms and lock themselves in, believing for some unknown reason that the bathroom is a sanctuary. After the women's room is full, those left venture into the men's room, run back out after they catch a whiff, and decide to take their chances crammed as deep into the corner as is humanly possible.

A sudden eeech fills the air as I whip around to see the same crowbar that most likely broke into my room trying to break through the door. The frantic employee had locked it as I asked, and they were sturdy doors. The screeching of the metal is replaced by a quiet knocking. Shihong stands at the doors, trying to make eye contact with the worker who had gone and hidden under a booth. Finally catching his eye, she gestures for him to come unlock the door. I admire his boldness when he shakes his head. Shihong shrugs her shoulders, reaches into her cloak, and pulls out a small ball, and throws it onto the roof.

"Grenade! Run outside! Grenade on the roof!!" A stampede of people rush to the doors, looking overhead as if they could see the small explosive through the roof. With the worker in the lead, the doors are quickly unlocked, and the customers pour out in a frenzy. But I know that it's all a lie. She didn't even pull out the pin to detonate it.

"Wait!! She didn't really do it!" I shout, but nobody even looks back. Soon, everyone is gone, having jumped into everyone's cars, and sped away from the parking lot. And they left me all alone in a small restaurant with a rebel group that have been attempting to pull down our government. And are also armed with grenades, from what I can tell.

As they all begin towards me, I run to the back where they cook all the overly fat foods. I come to the strainer that is still cooking the hot, oily fries, and lift it gingerly out of the cooker.

"Ah, ah!" The heat travels quite effectively into the handle. I look around wildly for a hot pad of some sort, and see one clear in the back by the sinks. I go to run down there, until I'm met with the floor. The strainer crashes to the ground beside me, throwing french fries all over the place. I roll over to see a huge man leaning over me, reaching for me. Biting my lip I grab the scorching strainer, and swing it hard against his face. He tries to turn at the last second, but it catches the left side of his face. A searing sound of melting is followed by horrible screams. I drop the handle, horrified, and look at my hand, seeing an angry red welt burning up the middle of my palm right where I grasped it. Jumping to my feet, I run to the back to where the sinks are, and switch on the cold water full blast. I calm down a little at the cooling sensation, but quickly tense again when I hear the others advancing.

A soft click, and I feel a cold object pressed against my back. Hot breath fills my ear as I hear the man who answered my questions earlier. "That's quite enough. I think it's time for you to come with us now." I begin to protest, but end up whimpering when the knife is shoved a little farther, almost breaking through my skin but being halted by my clothes. Suddenly a hand covers my neck, presses hard and-

I wake up in a tinted car, speeding at an extremely fast pace. My neck is killing me, and I'm about to ask my parents where I am until I remember all that that's happened. Shihong noticed my fidgeting, and alerts another man. I see that he's sitting next to a large man with a wet cloth pressed to the side of his face. We must be sitting in one of those cars that can have the chairs turn around, because they're both facing me. I recognize with a start that the man with a cloth over his face is the man I burnt with the fry cooker.

"Put her out again." Shihong instructs the man. I go into shock.

"What? No! Please, please, don't! I don't want to do that again!!" He takes out a needle from a padded case, gives me an apologetic look, then jabs me in to leg. Shihong holds me down, quietly counting under her breath. I wonder why she's counting.

"2...3..." I begin to ask, but then she begins to say 5 and the blackness consumes me again.

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